


I Spy

by seasalticecream32



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, cloud Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5342006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasalticecream32/pseuds/seasalticecream32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin leaves his home to destress, and stumbles over a boy with a Pendragon crest and a strange request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Spy

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post and an ask I received. I honestly don't know much about the cloud Merlin phenomenon that apparently happened in fandom, so, here's my thing.
> 
> This is also posted on my tumblr: captainmerlin32, if you want to see it there. :)

Merlin felt himself spread thin over the sky. He’d floated a long way from Ealdor this afternoon, but the thought was too distant to really bother him. All of his thoughts felt as scattered as he was, like little bits of air that flitted away the second he tried to grasp it.

Everything had been stressful before he’d left. His mother had screamed at him for doing something dangerous again.  _Always in trouble, why can’t you keep your head down? Too noble, too stubborn, just like…_

And if she hadn’t trailed off like that at the end, that tightness to her mouth, the way her cheek twitched and her eyes went all downcast, he might not be out here right now. She had, though, and he was reminded that he was somehow just like a father he’d never, ever met. So he took to the skies, in a form he’d never told his mother he’d figured out.

Being a cloud was a lot like sleeping, or existing in a dream. Merlin could feel power, could feel the thrum of magic holding him loosely together and the whistle of wind carrying him and the tug and pull of the sun trying to dry him up, but he defied all of it. He floated where he wished, casting shadows on blister backed farmers and playing children. He watched, and waited, as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

Somewhere between Ealdor and the nearest kingdom, Merlin saw someone alone and hollering.

The boy was a teenager, maybe a couple of years older than him, and Merlin was certain he’d never heard anyone who looked so regal cuss so filthily. The boy was just hacking at a rock, sparks flying off his sword. Merlin was worried that the ground, all brown patchy grass and weeds, would catch on fire, damn it all, and had to gather himself up to make rain.

This particular person looked like an idiot.

Merlin watched him a bit closer, concentrating on the curve of the boy’s cheek. Merlin wasn’t certain, but he thought there were tears falling from those pretty blue eyes.

All at once, Merlin felt himself falling.

He’d forgotten he was trying to be a cloud. He’d forgotten about spreading himself thin and keeping himself light and scattering his thoughts and worries. In his attempt to bring rain, he’d only thought one thing…

Fall.

And now he was, tumbling through the air and trying wildly to grab onto anything at all. He screamed for help, air filling up his mouth and choking the words before he really managed to get them out, but the boy below must have heard him, because suddenly the boy threw aside his sword and raced under Merlin.

Merlin didn’t land gracefully. He landed far too heavily in the boy’s arms, knocking them both over. Merlin’s head knocked against a muscled shoulder and his bones all felt like they might have shattered with the impact. The person below him groaned and rolled, until Merlin was on his back and the boy was above him.

Merlin was taken aback by some very red lips and high cheekbones and a large hawkish nose that wasn’t nearly far enough from his own. Merlin blinked and concentrated on the blue eyes in front of him. “That hurt.”

“Of course it hurt, you idiot. What were you doing?” The boy scowled, but didn’t move off of him. Merlin wondered if he could. Maybe he’d accidentally broken the boy’s legs by landing so hard on him. The boy’s angry expression darkened. “Were you practicing magic? How did you do that? Are you a sorcerer?”

“Um…” Merlin bit his lip. Technically, they weren’t in Camelot, but the blond boy’s red shirt, dragon symbol emblazoned on the front, might mean that wouldn’t matter.

“No use denying it now.” The boy grunted and stood, strong forearms boxing Merlin in as he shifted around before hopping to his feet. “You fell straight out of the sky, and there’s no trees close enough for you to have jumped.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” Merlin just lay, trying to will his bones and his muscles and his head to stop pounding. His heart was possibly pounding loudest of all, so much so that he thought it might bump right out of his chest.

“Don’t be an idiot, we’re not in Camelot.” The boy frowned and shuffled, then looked at Merlin, squinting as if he was sizing Merlin up. Then he sighed and shook his head. “That’s why I was out here. One of my friends… My closest friend, was just proclaimed to be a sorcerer in front of the whole court. My dad won’t see reason, wants to see him executed.”

“Remind me not to meet your dad, then.” Merlin scooted away, looking back up. Would it be rude to just leave? This wasn’t exactly comfortable conversation. “Can’t you appeal to the King? Surely he’s not so heartless as to kill someone as young as you.”

The boy winced. “Appealing to the King would do no good. He and my father have… Very similar beliefs.” The boy didn’t meet Merlin’s eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Gonna turn me in to the King, are you? I don’t think they do exchanges.” Merlin stood, biting his cheek to keep from hissing at the pain, and continued backing away, slowly. He’d run if he had to. He had no plans to die today.

“No. Stop talking like I’m just going to kill you.” The boy shook his head, but his face was still scowling and angry. “Look, my name’s Arthur alright. Remember it, because you definitely owe me for saving your life.”

“How will I know which one is you? Must be a dozen Arthur’s in Camelot.” Merlin squinted. “Besides, I didn’t ask you to save me. I had it handled.”

“You were screaming help me.” Arthur scoffed. “You’ll know me. I’m a… a knight. You owe me.”

“Fine, what do I need to pay you back in?” Merlin searched his pockets for change or anything to give. “I don’t have a lot of money or… anything else?” He huffed and crossed his arms and tried to look as annoyed as possible. “I still think it’s unfair that you think I should repay you for saving me. Aren’t knights supposed to be chivalrous and merciful and charitable or something?”

“You fell on me and nearly killed me.” Arthur laughed, though, so he didn’t seem really upset about the whole ordeal.

Merlin blushed scarlet, because Arthur laughing was like looking at the sun. All golden hair and white teeth and a brilliant smile that could dazzle anyone. It really wasn’t fair. “What do you want, dollophead?”

“Dollophead?” Arthur laughed again. “What does that even mean?”

“What do you want?”

Arthur calmed enough to look at Merlin with a mostly serious expression. “Meet me here tomorrow, teach me something magic.”

“But… But you’re from Camelot. You’re a knight of Camelot!” Merlin gaped. “You could get killed. Is this a trap? I’m not stupid enough to fall for a trap.”

“It’s not a trap.” Arthur bit his lip and looked back at the stone that he’d been hacking at. It was covered in pale, thin lines from his sword. The blade was probably ruined. “Look, my friend is probably going to… die, if I don’t help him. Sorcery is something… I don’t know, I don’t understand it. I just want to see if it’s as evil as it all sounds, or if…”

Merlin waited for Arthur to finish his explanation, watching the boy frown at his flat, calloused fingers.

“If there’s some reason that magic always feels so familiar to me.” Arthur sighed. “Sounds crazy, I know, but when Sir Kay did magic, it didn’t feel evil. It felt… right. Good.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy.” Merlin mumbled. He tilted his head at Arthur, and wondered, maybe, if he ought to show up. “How about we meet here, tomorrow, at sun down?”

Arthur looked up from his hands, startled, as if he was surprised Merlin was still here. “Yeah, sure, sounds good. Don’t be late.”

Merlin didn’t have the right mindset to turn into a cloud this time. His thoughts were too focused, too centered on Arthur, the strange Camelot boy in the clearing. Instead, he shifted and shrunk into a bird, and flew his way home. By the time he’d gotten home, he was certain that Arthur had set him up for a trap, and was determined not to go.

But he went the next day, anyway.

Unfortunately, Arthur didn’t show.


End file.
